


Comic Con Antics 2

by Yogblogger



Series: Comic Con Antics [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Comic Con, M/M, Sex, Smut, bed sharing, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yogblogger/pseuds/Yogblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After what happened last time, Ross has mixed feelings about the upcoming Comic Con, and about his friend and colleague Alex Smith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can also read this series on tumblr! http://yogblogger.tumblr.com/post/133363197411/comic-con-antics-2-pt-1

Ross shifted slightly in his seat and tried to subtly peek round his partition. As far as he could see, Trott wasn’t at his desk. He could definitely hear Smith across the room though, the sharp clicking noises of his mouse and the occasional mumble to himself made his presence clear. It had been quite a few months since Comic Con and… the incident.

To be brutally honest with himself, Ross knew Smith probably regarded it as a mistake. He had pre-packed lube but it was probably meant to be some kind of joke that he’d taken too far. Neither of them had mentioned it, they’d simply packed up and behaved as normal ever since. Maybe Smith couldn’t even remember it - they were both drunk. Ross certainly could, though. Most nights, around midnight, every sweaty, lust-filled second of their passionate affair crept into his mind and refused to leave until he’d relived every detail. Even thinking of it at work threatened to make Ross shamefully aroused, so he cleared his throat and shook his head.

“Alright mate?” Smith called from across the room.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.” Ross hastily replied, quickly rising to stand. Maybe he should go somewhere else to cool off. Maybe he should splash some cold water on his face.

“Cool.” His auburn haired colleague mumbled, clearly still concentrating on what he was doing.

Ross tried to keep his cool as he walked past Smith, but the small creak of an office chair and a hand grabbing his arm stopped him in his tracks. When he spun round, his friend was looking at him and pulling him closer with his grasp, causing Ross’ heart to beat like crazy. His whole body felt hot. He had imagined a million scenarios like this one, and they all ended in a kiss…

“If you see Trott, tell him to double check that everything’s sorted for Comic Con on Friday, okay?” Smiths words came crashing down on Ross like a sea of disappointment. What was he thinking?! He was pretty sure Smith was straight, anyway.

“Sure.” Ross mumbled in reply before yanking his arm away and storming out of the room. His own stupidity and anger at himself swallowed him whole as he shoved past a confused Turps in the corridor and crashed into the men’s room.

Standing at a sink and looking at himself in the mirror, Ross cursed in irrational rage as he splashed himself with water. A kiss?! He was pretty sure he’d started blushing and everything. How embarrassing. How stupid. All he wanted was for this comic con to be over, to forget about the last one and to get over this crazy feeling he had about his friend.

His heart skipped a beat as someone came in behind him. He didn’t want someone like Lewis or Sjin to see him angry like this. They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t know what to do, it would just be shitty excuses from Ross and shitty comfort from them. As he turned, he breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that it was only Trott, and his anger was ebbing anyway.

“Hey man. What’s going on?” His brunette friend asked, pocketing his phone and stepping towards him. “Smith said you looked off.”

Ross’ anger flared up again. “Of course he did.” He huffed through gritted teeth, a little louder than he had intended.

“Woah.” Trott chuckled slightly. “What does that mean?” Ross sighed and leant backwards against the sink, trying to think of something to tell Trott that wasn’t the truth.

“Well…” Ross began, desperately trying to think of something, anything that would mean he didn’t have to tell Trott about… Summer Comic Con.

“Is he in one of those moods again?” Trott offered.

“Yes!” Ross agreed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “That’s the exact problem.”

Trott laughed a little and shrugged. “Give him 5 minutes and a coffee, I’m sure it’ll sort him out. Oh, and tell him to stop worrying about Comic Con, the travel is fine, our rooms are fine, everything is fine.”

Ross nodded and left, a thousand thoughts whirling through his head. He couldn’t let it go on like this. What did it all mean? Did Smith feel the same way? Had he ever felt the same way? Ross thought that maybe he’d regretted it, or thought Ross was bad in bed, and that’s why they hadn’t spoken about it. Maybe Smith thought that he’d been bad and that Ross had been great, and he didn’t want to look foolish. He wasn’t foolish. He was gorgeous.

He realised that whilst thinking this he’d absent-mindedly walked back into their room and was stood in front of Smith.

“Comic Con…” He began, trying to read into Smith’s reaction. He couldn’t see any recognition in his eyes, or any feeling for that matter.

“Yes?” Smith said, expressionless.

“… is all sorted!” Ross shamefully finished. He’d hoped there was some reaction, ANY reaction, that would tell him that Smith even remembered what had happened.

Disappointment filled him up, like an overflowing glass of water.


	2. The Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys arrive at their hotel, ready for the con, but it turns out not all is well in their room…

Another early car journey to a convention. Unfortunately for Ross, his seat was pretty small, in a Ford Fiesta with the rest of Hat Films, Turps and Lewis. It was still dark outside, and he struggled to keep trying to nonchalantly gaze out of the window when there honestly wasn’t much to see out there. Cold crept into the car, sneaking into air despite the tiny heaters furiously blowing lukewarm air towards the 5 men. He was cramped next to Trott, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, and Smith furthest to the right, on the other side of Trott. Turps was keeping Lewis’ attention at the front of the car, and with them both babbling away and Trott losing his fight against falling asleep, it just left Smith and Ross in the back. Most of the journey had been spent in silence for Ross, who couldn’t bear loud music this early in the morning and really just wished he could fall asleep just like Trott was trying not to.

“Ross.” A gruff voice pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned to see Smith looking at him. “We’ve been here before, eh? Why so grumpy?” He chuckled.

“You know what I’m like! I hate getting up early.” Ross gently smiled.

“Yeah, well, I could make you feel better about it.” Smith winked. Ross’ heart beat faster.

“What?” He stuttered. “What does that mean?”

“Y'know Ross, something very magical is happening. We’re leaving our normal lives. This is a little like a holiday, we have hotel rooms, we’ll spend a lot of time together…” His auburn haired friend continued in his flirty tone of voice. What was going on?

“This is…” Ross trailed off. He glanced nervously towards Turps and Lewis, to make sure they weren’t listening. “What is this? Why now? Are you implying what I think you are?”

“What if I was?” Smith’s hand was on Ross’ leg.

“Then I’d ask why now? Why not several months ago after what happened?”

“Uh.” The fun, carefree flirting dropped from Smith’s voice and face as he recoiled his hand and looked away. Shit, Ross thought, I should’ve just gone along with it. Flirted back. I’ve ruined everything.

“Smith?” Ross carefully asked.

“Well…” Smith began. Ross’ heart was in his mouth. Every part of his body was on fire with anxiety and excitement.

“Yeah?” He dared to question, “Yeah mate?”

Suddenly, at the very second Ross had spoken, Trott snorted slightly and shook his head. He was waking up.

“Trotty! Wakey wakey catfish!” Smith suddenly exclaimed, ruffling his hair. Trott groggily tried to swipe him away and slowly took in his surroundings.

“How the fuck is it still dark?” He fumed.

Ross sighed audibly in frustration. He’d been so close! He shouldn’t have questioned Smith. He shouldn’t have thought about the bigger picture. Why did he always ruin things for himself?

Something in the car whined loudly as they came to a rumbling halt outside of a tall building. This was clearly the hotel, and the car journey was over - both a good and a bad thing in Ross’ eyes. As everyone heaved their bags out of the car and up to their rooms inside, Ross finally took his mind off Smith as he supported Trott, who kept falling asleep standing up. It was going to be a long convention, and from here could either be amazing or terrible.

When they got up to their room, the three men stopped dead. They’d been expecting 3 single beds, on specific request from the hotel, but it turned out there was a double and a single.

“What the fuck?” Smith angrily questioned. “Didn’t we say separate beds?”

No one spoke.

“Trott!” Smith turned suddenly. “Didn’t I tell you to sort this shit out?”

Smith got no reply from the brunette. Instead, the smaller man simply dragged his bags over to the only single bed and slowly got into it.

“Shotgun.” He mumbled, falling asleep once more.

Ross gulped. Here we go again, he thought. Another double bed, only this time they weren’t stumbling in drunk, lustful, wanting…

“Ross?” Smith’s voice dragged Ross out of his daydream.

“I’ll call reception.” He stated as he dropped his bag on one half of the bed and went over to the room’s phone.

Ringing… Smith bitterly mumbling… ringing… no answer.

He sighed and dialled again.

Ringing… an unimportant question from Smith… a sigh from an unconscious Trott… a click.

“Hello! You called, room 214? Sorry I couldn’t get to you before. How may I help you?”

“Hi there, my name’s Ross Hornby, my friends and I are staying in this room but it turns out there isn’t the beds we asked for? We wanted 3 singles, but there’s only a double and a single in here.”

“I’m very sorry Mr Hornby, but unfortunately the hotel is completely booked out at the moment, so we have had to swap a few rooms around to accommodate all of our guests. We can compensate financially, you won’t pay more for the room, but that’s all I can do.”

Ross licked his lips and tried to make a decision. Maybe they could look at other hotels? Although, you probably wouldn’t be able to find another hotel in London near the convention at such short notice…

“Um, well, sure. Fine. That’s okay. Goodbye then.” He put the phone down abruptly.

“Well?” Smith asked.

“Nothing they can do. Mate, we’re not gonna be able to find another hotel for tonight.”

He watched as Smith called Turps for advice, and when the call connected and he explained what was happening, Ross only heard raspy laughter from their colleague down the phone. Smith dropped the phone onto the bed, with audible laughter from Lewis leaking out of its tinny speakers now as well.

“Yeah, turns out they think so too. Looks like we’re sharing a bed, Rossy-boy.”


End file.
